


Flaming Orchids, A Crusty Cake Wall and Other Things Felicity Smoak Should Have Seen Coming

by sweetiepie1019



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 23:38:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5225579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiepie1019/pseuds/sweetiepie1019
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Felicity Megan Smoak, CEO of Queen Incorporated, MIT graduate, certified genius, and renowned go-to computer expert and hacker of three superhero teams, REALLY should have seen this coming.</em>
</p>
<p>Also known as my super fluffy take on an eventual Queen/Smoak wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flaming Orchids, A Crusty Cake Wall and Other Things Felicity Smoak Should Have Seen Coming

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey! So I haven't written fanfiction in years, and I've never written anything for this site or about Arrow. So this should be fun. Please excuse any formatting mistakes. I've been sort of stopping and starting a couple fics thanks to the great season we've been having, but this week finally inspired me to finish one. If Olicity gets engaged this year, part of me thinks that the season five crossover, which falls around the hundredth episode, might be where they want to put the wedding. Based on the idea of how crazy that wedding would be, I wrote an intensely fluffy fic. I'm a bit rusty, but I hope you guys enjoy!

Felicity Megan Smoak, CEO of Queen Incorporated, MIT graduate, certified genius, and renowned go-to computer expert and hacker of three superhero teams, REALLY should have seen this coming.

Well, she sort of did, but she refused to acknowledge it. With her family history and growing up in Vegas, watching drunken couples stumble out of wedding chapels in giggly marital bliss, and the same people checking out of hotels hours later, separately, messy and hung over and having loud conversations with lawyers on their cell phones – well, she’d always been pretty back and forth about ever getting married at all, to be honest. It hadn’t seemed worth it, most of the time. But when she had thought about it – usually either when she was in a serious relationship, or when she was having serious feelings for obtuse superheroes – she had been determined that if she did get married, she’d do it right. No rush jobs, no grooms she’d met in the same calendar year, let alone three drinks and a round of shots ago, and no officiant dressed as a celebrity, living or dead.

If there was one thing Felicity was going to have that was normal, it was going to be her wedding.

If she had one, that is.

Oliver had been pretty understanding about the whole thing, considering she was pretty sure he was ready to marry her the same night he proposed. Once Oliver made a decision, especially a decision about the people he loved, he was single-minded. From the moment he’d said the words “I want to be with you” he’d decided that they were going to be together until he found out if Wells had been right about the whole living until he was eighty-six thing. Possibly longer. For him, the only sticking point had been whether or not she wanted that too. Now that he knew for sure she did, it was a matter of signing some papers and his Keep Felicity Forever plan was official. For all he’d gone almost disturbingly domestic, his interest in having a modest sized wedding extravaganza (modest because being vigilantes led to a small friends and family group that they didn’t have to censor themselves around) pretty much is limited to whatever makes her happy. Well, and the caterers and cake tasting. Really, he’s taken to the whole cooking very seriously, which, okay, isn’t exactly a surprise. Oliver Queen isn’t known for half-assing his hobbies. But other than chuckling at the green and pink color scheme, he clearly has no interest in construction of their wedding and the planning that goes into it other than the completion of the Keep Felicity Forever plan.

And the thing was, neither was Felicity, really. She was excited about marrying Oliver and getting an awesome dress and whatever food Oliver picked out because it was going to be fantastic, and did she mention marrying Oliver? But while she was dead determined to have the nice wedding, she really wished that someone would magically make a perfect wedding appear on the chosen day. Instead, with Thea, Curtis and some of her other friends making the occasional contribution, and Oliver doing whatever tasks she deemed under his purview, between being a CEO and a vigilante, she still manages to cobble together a pretty respectable wedding.

But the truth is, she knew deep down in her heart, that if being a CEO and vigilante was going to make her reschedule with the florist five times, and make two wedding planners quit on her due to constant absences, the chances were not high that their actual wedding day would actually be crime-free. But she managed to convince herself that if they were vigilant, and kept one or two guests not in the wedding party on alert for emergencies, they could keep this one day from turning into a disaster.

But come on. She knows better.

So when the first time Oliver sees her wedding dress is when she ducks behind the overturned table he’s using for cover from the half dozen villains violently crashing their tasteful outdoor fall wedding, despite the past several months of denial, she’s hardly surprised. She does take a moment to mourn that one of his suspenders has snapped in the original scuffle. She loves him in suspenders. She should get to see him in suspenders on her wedding day. Stupid suspender killing criminals ruin everything.

“ _Fe-li-ci-ty_ ,” Oliver says in that tight way of his. He rarely says her name that way anymore, but to be fair, he’s a little distracted by bullets. And meta humans. And what appears to be someone magicking the cutlery to throw itself at all of them at random. She’s pretty sure she got hit by a spoon on the way to the table. “Get back inside.”

“No comms,” she explains succinctly, which is a miracle, because she can feel a babble coming up. It’s to be expected, she’s stressed. “I needed to tell you that Barry has the south part of the lawn covered but Nyssa had to help him out so that Merlyn would stop floating him off the ground so he couldn’t run and now there’s nobody covering the hall. Also, when did Merlyn learn magic? When was that a thing?”

Oliver takes a second to pop over the table and shoot off a few arrows – which, where was he keeping those? Strapped under one of the tables set up for the reception or something? Well, yeah, probably, actually. She may have been living in denial about pulling off a peaceful wedding, but he clearly wasn’t.

“I’ll grab Dig and Sara and hold off Anarky and his HIVE agents if you can go get Vibe and see if he’s getting any readings on their positions. I don’t know who the other magic user is and I want to take them out before they realize they can just throw my arrows back at me.” A fork goes whizzing over their heads and Oliver ducks down beside her as a barrage of bullets hits the table, which has Kevlar lining the top. Come on, she wasn’t that in denial, she’d thought some things through.

It’s at this moment that her future husband stops shooting arrows long enough to take a look at her. His face lights up in one of those Felicity smiles he has, the bright, happy, moon-eyed ones that she’s only seen him smile at her. She’s momentarily confused by what she’s done to warrant one in the middle of a fire-and-cutlery-fight until he says, a bit dopily, “You look beautiful.”

She shoots a silly grin back, and then the meaning of his words really hits her. “Oh, God,” she looks down at her dress in horror, “this is really bad luck, right? Or a bad sign?”

“Felicity, I think we’ve probably had all the bad luck we’re going to get at this point,” Oliver points out, chuckling.

One of the orchids from the centerpieces lands stem first like an arrow, stuck in the ground between them, quivering from the impact.

Also it’s on fire.

Oliver blinks at it for a moment. “Well. That’s new.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Magic,” he concludes in disgust. “Vibe. Now please. I’ll cover you.”

“Got it.” She skirts the flaming flower and gives him a quick kiss. “The fire-y flower arrows of doom are probably the bad luck from the dress.”

“Sure.” Oliver cups her cheek and kisses her again, slow and sweet in spite of the chaos around them. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against hers. “Be careful.”

“You, too.” With a squeeze to the hand on her cheek and a last peck, Felicity ducks and runs off to find Cisco. As she dodges the various projectiles, she thinks Oliver was probably right. It’s not like this was going to get any worse.

Half an hour later, Felicity’s perfect wedding is a scene of complete and utter destruction. The foliage is still smoldering in places on the lawn, the tables look like tanks tried to roll over them, and there’s bullet holes in the shape of anarchy symbol on the door of the hall right next to a clump of steak knives in the shape of a merlin – the bird, she’s pretty sure, not the wizard – which is the bad guy equivalent of a pissing contest, as far she can tell. Trying to take the credit of who ruined the Green Arrow’s wedding.

And her dress – the one thing in all those months of planning that she’d been excited about, beautiful and perfect and exactly what she’d dreamed – that dress is now a disaster. One sleeve has ripped away entirely, there’s a tear from when Malcolm got too close with his sword, and a large chunk of the hem is charred from where she got too close to the roses. It’s also has patches of dirt from when she’d had to drop to the ground to avoid the many things flying around trying to kill her. On top of which, her hair has fallen out of the tasteful up-do it had previously been in and is now instead in some sort of tangled mess around her shoulders. While she can’t speak to the condition of her make-up, having no mirrors to check it in, she can’t imagine it looks good.

The rest of the team … _teams_ , whatever, have wandered back to the remaining chairs where the ceremony would have taken place. Iris, Linda and Caitlin are slumped back to back in the grass while Iris leans her head on her father’s shoulder and Caitlin patches up a gash on Cisco’s cheek, Lisa hovering behind them. Wells and Stein are discussing magic with Tatsu and Nyssa, which seems to be going poorly, if the grip Nyssa has on her sword is any indication. Laurel is talking stick technique with Kendra while Lance interjects with his own opinion on everyone carrying a gun instead of weapons with no long-range capabilities with Donna hanging onto his arm, looking a little shell-shocked. Thea seems to be flirting with Jax while Roy and Alex glower from the side. Ray is making small suit repairs with Barry and Curtis with Curtis’ husband hovering beside them. Leonard and Mick are hovering off to the side, fiddling with their guns – they were mostly here for the fight and don’t seem to know what to do now that it’s over. Oliver, Diggle, Rip and Sara are heading over from the ruin that was the hall, Oliver making a beeline for Felicity.

“Savage got them away. They could be anywhere … or, anytime, I guess.” Oliver shakes his head as he reaches her, pulling off the remains of his bowtie. He doesn’t look worse for wear, damn him; with his tux jacket long gone, he’s got just his shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, and the first two buttons popped off from his chest. Which is great to look at, but in comparison, she feels even more like a walking disaster. And it’s her wedding day.

Or it was, anyway.

Oliver sets down his bow before reaching out and running a hand down her arm. “You’re okay?” he asks, his other hand coming up to cup her face. He’s gone all intense on her, and she wants to make him laugh like she usually does but coming up with anything remotely funny is a little difficult at the moment. She leans her cheek into his palm instead, trying to look as reassuring as possible.

It doesn’t work as well she’d hoped; Oliver’s eyebrows draw together morphing from intense to guilty in a moment.

“Why were they here?” Felicity turns towards Laurel as Oliver pulls her into him. She leans her head against his chest, sighing a little. Laurel crosses her arms and shrugs. “I mean, I get that there was a possibility that someone would think attacking us with our guard down was a good idea, even though taking on three teams at once seems like a bad idea. But why did they all band together like this?”

“Oliver has a tendency to piss people off,” Diggle points out. Oliver levels a glare his way; his best man just shrugs placidly.

“Yeah, but all of them? Laurel’s right, this is off.” Felicity turns her head slightly, without taking it off of Oliver, to see Thea has abandoned her conversation with Jax to chime in, looking as worried as she imagines Oliver looks right about now. If she wanted to pick her head off of his pecs to see. Which she doesn’t, particularly.

The rest of the wedding party – those who hadn’t been evacuated the moment the chairs started flying around on their own, that is – turns to pay attention at this point. Nyssa looks deep in thought, although, with her, it’s hard to tell. “Savage is a time traveler. He may have believed this day held significance.”

At the words ‘time traveler,’ everyone’s gaze turns to Rip, who shrugs. “I mean, I don’t know every day that has an impact, do I? But it’s definitely possible. Y’know, archer hero,” he gestures at Oliver, “marries hacker hero,” this time he waves his hand at Felicity, “and all their various hero mates are here – it’s seems like the sort of thing that might peak his interest. But Queen does tend to make people want to off him. Historically speaking. Might’ve just thought doing it today would be …”

“Evil? Cruel? Sadistic?” Caitlin supplies.

“Funny.” Rip grins, before a look from Sara makes him try to school his features into something more contrite.

“Yup. Hilarious,” Cisco contributes, wincing as Caitlin smoothed the bandage over his cut. “Although I did enjoy what they did to the cake, that was …”

Felicity groans. “Oh _God_ , what did they do to the cake?”

“Um … nothing.”

Felicity lightly thumps her head on Oliver’s chest. “This should probably go without saying, but I hate villains. They’re the worst. They couldn’t have waited until tomorrow? Or well, after the honeymoon, I was really looking forward to the honeymoon …”

Oliver arm tightens at her back. “I’m sorry.”

This finally makes Felicity lift her head. “No! No, this isn’t your fault. Or, not any more than the rest of us. I just …” she snorts, admitting it at last, “I knew this wasn’t going to work out, and I did anyway. Because of some stupid insecurities from being raised in the quickie wedding capitol of the world. But you’re the Green Arrow and the mayor of Star City, and I’m a CEO whose hacker handle is on at least four Most Wanted lists, and I knew getting married wasn’t going to be this easy.”

“Wait, what Most Wanted lists?”

“Um, yeah, not the point,” she awkwardly blows past Oliver’s confusion. It’s not like he’s told her every country he’s wanted in, right? “What I just realized is … I don’t care.”

Oliver looks beyond lost and a little concerned. “Don’t care about … what? The Most Wanted lists?”

“Forget the lists, Oliver.”

“Then … getting married?”

“No, of course not. The big wedding. All … this,” she explains, gesturing to include the ruined tablecloths and charred centerpieces. “All those hoops I made us jump through, and I don’t care.” Felicity grasps his hand on her cheek and threads her fingers through his. “I just want to be married to you.”

She’s pretty sure she hears somebody, probably one of the hot/cold twins, snickering at them and her mother is having some kind of conniptions over how sweet they’re being, but it doesn’t matter because Oliver’s eyes are softening and his hand is squeezing hers and, God, why didn’t she just marry him months ago? Why is she still not married to him?

“So let’s be married.”

“What?” Oliver is adorably confused again, but in a happy way.

“Look, either this is an important date and we need to thwart the bad guys by making sure things still happen the way they’re supposed to, or they did it to mess with us and are going to try again the next time we try this. And it doesn’t matter, because today is my wedding day, and this is happening.”

With this little speech done with, Felicity turns on her heel, dragging Oliver along with her, snapping instructions. “Everybody, get some chairs out by the chuppah – okay, Barry, please _fix_ the chuppah. Quickly. Thea, John, make sure you’ve still got the rings somewhere,” Diggle nods while Thea starts checking her dress frantically, “and get up front. Who is ordained? Ray! Okay no, you’re my ex, that’s too weird – Stein!”

The older man starts. “How did you know I was …”

“I know anything and everything that has ever been recorded online or any digital device for anyone who knows the identities of the members of my team, because that’s my job,” Felicity informs him. “Also, Cisco took pictures on his phone of Caitlin’s wedding and sent them to me with the text _Snowstorm got married_ with like five exclamation points. Come on.”

By this time Felicity and Oliver have reached the chuppah, which Barry has mostly put back to rights in with super-speedy efficiency, and the rest of the guests are hurrying to put the chairs to rights and get to their places. Before she can get any further, Oliver stops uses her hold on him to tug her back in front of him.

He traces a finger along her cheek, looking incredulous but hopeful. “Felicity, this … are you sure this is what you want? I mean, we were just attacked, our wedding cake is that crusty thing on the wall over there …”

Her nose wrinkles. “Oh. Ew.”

Oliver tilts her head up and away from looking at the crusty cake wall to look in his eyes. “I can wait, if that’s what you want.”

“Oliver,” Felicity said, beaming up at him because she knows he wants to get married now, that he wanted to get married months ago, but he completely means it when he says he’ll wait and _she gets to marry him_ , “I meant what I said. I let stupid things get in the way. And while I wish my dress was nicer,” she grimaced down at the dirty, burnt mess she was wearing, “and our cake was still intact, I don’t really care. Unless,” she says with a sudden drop of confidence, “I mean … you still …”

“Of course.” He’s now smiling back as widely as she is. They must look ridiculous. She has never been happier.

“All right, you two.” Diggle is looking like some mix of sardonic and thoroughly pleased, eyebrow raised and arms crossed, but grinning almost as widely as Oliver. “If we’re doing this, let’s go before anyone decides to come back for a second round.”

“Right.” She breaks away from Oliver for a second to reach up and kiss Diggle’s cheek. “Thanks, John.” And still resisting the urge to giggle from the pure perfect giddy moment – about to marry the man she loves with their best friend right beside them and everyone else that matters to them here, bruised but happy, to see it – she walks hand in hand with her very soon-to-be-husband up to the charred remains of the alter where Stein and Thea are waiting for them. Diggle takes his place behind Oliver after stomping out one last smoldering orchid.

She takes a quick glance over the crowd. Curtis is holding his husband’s hand, while his husband’s head rests on his shoulder; her mother is still wrapped around Lance’s arm, which seems to be just fine by him. Lyla is smiling up at Diggle; Thea is wiggling her eyebrows at a blushing Alex – or possibly a smirking Roy. Cisco seems to be trying not to blush while Lisa Snart plays with his hair.

It’s not normal by any stretch of the imagination, but they’re all hers, her big weird heroic family, and this is everything she could have wanted.

“Honored guests …”

Stein leads them through a truncated version of the planned ceremony. They hold hands the entire time, repeating some words when it’s required, but mostly just grinning at each other like kids. Oliver has to be prompted twice before he remembers himself enough to give his vows.

“Felicity Smoak,” he began, eyes shining down at her, “when I’m with you I’m the best version of myself. Things that I thought would be impossible, like building a life with someone without compromising the person I set out to be or the promises I made – they are possible with you. You’re my partner in every way, in every aspect of my life, and everything is better and brighter when you’re there. Because you’re the best person I’ve ever met and you keep finding ways to show me your kindness and strength and brilliance. You make me happy, and I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy, too.”

She knows she can’t kiss him now, but it’s a close thing. She does sniffle a few times and lean her head against his shoulder for a moment, while he runs his hand up and down her arm in comfort. When she collects herself, she gives her own vows back.

“Oliver Queen, you changed my life. All the things I love best about my life, I wouldn’t have if I never met you – this purpose we both have, all these people we love, the home we built. I’ve never known someone I can rely on the way I rely on you, and nobody has ever understood me the way you do. I love you so much that is has scared me, but it also gives me strength. I found myself in you, we found ourselves in each other, and none of that is scary anymore. I just can’t wait to find out what amazing things we’re going to do next. Together.”

Whatever had held Felicity back after Oliver’s vows doesn’t seem to have the same effect on him; as soon as she finishes speaking he pulls her to him and kisses her – and not in an entirely appropriate way, considering their family members in attendance. As she melts into him, she hears Stein stammer out his last lines, the most important among them, “I now pronounce you man and wife!”

She pulls back to look at her husband. Her _husband_. Who is smiling like a loon and whose eyes are as misty as her own. She laughs and wipes stray tear from his cheek and he does the same for her, before kissing her again.

Her Keep Oliver Forever plan is off to a great start.

They throw an impromptu reception at the Wests, fitting over thirty people into their living room, and ordering barbeque from some Oliver-approved local restaurant. As she sits next to Oliver, arms and hands entwined, her head on his shoulder and his lips pressed against her hair, her friends milling happily around her, Felicity decides that it normal isn’t the point. And neither is whether or not this was some appointed, important day, in the grand scheme of timelines and the battle of good-versus-evil.

What matters is that this is what the rest of her life will be like. And in in her destroyed dress and Oliver’s green hoodie, her friends around her and her husband by her side, normal seems like something so small compared to her own, messy, extraordinary life.

And at least Stein hadn’t been dressed as Elvis. Felicity Megan Queen (Smoak-Queen? Queen-Smoak? She’d figure it out later) was willing to take her victories where she could get them.

**Author's Note:**

> My Twitter: socontagious19
> 
> My Tumblr: sweetiepie1019


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